


a time and place for us (I'll find a way of forgiving)

by amusewithaview



Series: Nothing but love in view [6]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Darcy Lewis is Asgardian, Divergent Timelines, Dream Magic, F/M, Fate & Destiny, I can't see a way to put them together canonically, Loki Feels, Parent Frigga, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Species Swap, so Frigga helped Loki create an alternate timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:50:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have seen the path that we are on, and it fills me with sorrow, my son. I would see it changed, for your sake. The tale, as you are writing it, does not have a happy end.”</p>
<p>Loki’s face fell, confirmation that he had already begun the first subtle moves of some great working. “That is grave news. Still,” he continued, a queer sort of light in his eyes, “is it not better to write your own tale, sad though it may be, rather than to always take your happiness at another’s whim?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(A "What if?" spin-off from the main continuity of "Nothing but love in view.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	a time and place for us (I'll find a way of forgiving)

**Author's Note:**

> So…a bunch of people requested Loki? Which I feel only works in an AU realm, but then I kind of went overboard. This diverges from the rest of my series by having Frost Giants' soulmarkings be the same as Asgardians (and whatever Hogun's people are). *handwave handwave handwave* Mostly because I didn't want to deal with the Frost Giant!reveal in this fic, _it is sad enough, okay?_
> 
> Also: I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE _MAYBE_ 900 WORDS. _Goddamnit._

One night, Frigga had a _kenning_.

She dreamt of a day, not too far distant by Asgardian reckoning, when her golden son would be crowned and her shadow child cast down. She saw ice, twisted and black, growing within Loki’s breast: fed by misunderstanding, resentment, jealousy, and a fear that drove him ever onward. She saw lies and poor decisions, stacked and intertwined: a cage of his making, built by his hand. She watched battles be won and lost, chaos loosed on the realms, and death…so much death.

Tormented by what she had _kenned_ , she tossed and turned, face wet with tears.

_Is this his fate?_ she cried to the Norns, _Is this what he must become?_

The dream shifted, then, as if in answer. She saw the realm, Midgard – called “Earth” by its inhabitants – but not blackened as it had been in her earlier visions. Blue and green and full of life, it flickered in her view. She drew closer, drawn by some power, and closer still, until she saw a woman, heavy with child and smiling. The child…the child was the key.

She saw a baby, smiling and happy, laughing with her mother.

She saw a girl, soft in her youth but sturdy, toddling after her brothers.

She saw a maiden, quiet and sharp, supporting those around her.

She saw a woman, grown into the sum of all her ages, and the family she had made of friends. All gathered through her kindness, her wit, her courage. There was a good future for this mortal, a life full of trouble and turmoil, but also great joy and gladness. The life this woman would have would be a full one, and though her son might touch it, he would not be a part of it if he stayed on the course he was setting.

The dreaming reversed, showing her the child’s mother again, smiling down at the roundness of her belly. Frigga watched as another future was offered, one no less full of trouble or happiness, but greatly changed by her own intervention. There was a cost, but weighed against her son's future it was nothing. She saw her son made happy. She saw a choice, one that must be made quickly, before birth wrote a destiny into the mortal’s skin.

Frigga woke, greatly disturbed, and resolved to seek her son the next morn.

The night was long, but she sought her son at first light, going to the library.

“Loki,” she called.

He turned with a smile at her entrance. His smile, she noted, had been growing more and more edged in the last few years, though he never aimed its sharpness towards her. “Mother,” he greeted, crossing to her, “you look troubled, what ails you?”

She clasped his hands, staring up into his face for the answers her _kenning_ had resolved her to seek. “I have had a vision from the Norns,” she told him, “I have seen the path that we are on, and it fills me with sorrow, my son. I would see it changed, for your sake. The tale, as you are writing it, does not have a happy end.”

Loki’s face fell, confirmation that he had already begun the first subtle moves of some great working. “That is grave news. Still,” he continued, a queer sort of light in his eyes, “is it not better to write your own tale, sad though it may be, rather than to always take your happiness at another’s whim?”

“I would not take your choices, my son, merely give you another option to consider,” Frigga said quietly, resolved now. “I might have made this choice, paid the price for its workings, but instead I will send you into the weave of my _kenning_ , let you see a glimpse of what might be. The choice will be difficult, but yours – if you wish it. But Loki, understand this: there will be consequences, and they will be yours to live with.”

Her son, ever curious about her connection to the Norns, agreed.

That night, she sent him into the dreaming. The next day, pale and haggard, he made his choice.

“I wish,” he told her with a bitter smile, “that I had your wisdom, mother. I do not know what price you might have paid, but mine…it is dear. She will _know_ , mother, on Thor’s coronation day, she will see what we have seen and _know_ the choice we have made for her. She will see all that I might have been, all she could have had but for my intervention.”

“Then, my son, you must ensure that what she has is not so ill that she feels cheated by your bargain.”

Five days later, Loki brought a woman to the palace. She was large with child, and seemed confused. Every motion she made was as if she moved through water, her face always serene and dreamy. Frigga cared for her as best she could, hurt and heartsick for her son and the choice he had made: her arts might have made the change simpler, less fraught, but it was Loki’s choice, and so must be Loki’s actions that altered fate’s design.

In a short time, a girl was born on Asgard, to Asgard, and by the magic bargained and paid for, _of_ Asgard.

“ _Sigyn,_ ” she was named by the healers, for her mother had disappeared from childbed and could not be found, “that you might overcome your enemies and find true friends.”

At birth, her _sálknútr_ was instantly visible encompassing the palm of one hand. All agreed it was a good omen for such an unfortunate child. At her birth, a _sálknútr_ appeared on Loki’s throat. Speculation ran rampant in the palace before Loki finally, with guilt in his eyes that none but his mother could recognize, entered the healing rooms and both _sálknútr_ came alive with color.

Green and blue filled the knot, and the lines that had been black washed gold. Another mark of favor, the people whispered.

Frigga knew it to be the mark of the Norns, a sign of their bargaining.

Sigyn became a ward of the All-Father, though Odin spent little time with her. His first encounter with the child had him looking sharply at his wife, who returned his gaze evenly, before he stared off into a distant shore gone hazy with his own magics. When he returned to himself, the look he gave Frigga was one of great weariness, and the child inspired only his pity. Frigga knew he came to care for the girl, in his own distant manner, but not feeling a real claim to him, Sigyn did not feel the lack of his presence.

Thor was jovial, nothing but happy for his brother, until he realized that Loki meant to limit his excursions, desiring to watch over his intended. His frustration was great, but he tried to understand. Thor's bond with Sif was one of warriors, not lovers, and he had yet to find the mate to his second _sálknútr_ , though it had appeared only a few years prior. He enjoyed time with Sigyn, bringing her to visit Volstagg and his brood whenever he was in the palace for an extended time.

Frigga watched the babe grow, smiling and happy, and delighted in the child.

She watched her become a girl, soft with her youth but sturdy, toddling after the warriors, and always alive with curiosity and wonder.

She watched her become a maiden, quiet and sharp, learning all she could from those around her, desiring to learn all she could of each of the realms, their people, and customs.

She watched her become a woman, grown into the sum of all her ages, beloved by all who knew her, but by none so much as Loki. Frigga worried, as Thor’s coronation day drew nearer, that anger would find a home in her son’s heart, instead she saw him grow ever more fearful as the day drew closer that he must pay his price. He orbited Sigyn as if she were his sun, fearing to draw closer - though she did not understand his reticence, yet desiring her presence.

At last, the day came. Morning found Sigyn at her door, white and trembling.

“Why?” she asked, “Was I meant to be his consolation prize? Something to appease his envy?”

“No!” Frigga cried, “You were the better choice for _all_. I saw just as much happiness in your future here as I did your life on Earth. You did not lose any measure of joy, but we gained much.”

“My parents?” she asked, expression pinched, “My brothers? What of them?”

“They never knew what they lost, that is a burden only Loki and I have had, till now.” 

Sigyn looked away for a moment, then said softly, “I have loved you, and still do, but I do not think your decision measured anyone’s happiness save your son’s. I can forgive the mother’s love for her son, but – “ she gulped, “as one who has thought herself like your daughter, I – I feel betrayed.”

“Sigyn, no! I love you!”

“Because I am myself, or because of what I am to Loki?” She shook her head, cutting off any protest Frigga might make, and turned to go. Four steps away she paused, though she did not turn back, “The girl I was to be might have agreed with your choice, but she does not exist to ask her.”

Frigga nearly broke down in weeping, but she had to know. She had to make sure that this price, _Loki’s_ price, dear though it might be, would not break him. Break _them_. She went to the pool in her garden and sat at its edge till her tears smoothed away the reflection of the sky and showed her what she wished to know.

Sigyn sat on a bench in Loki’s rooms; he knelt before her pressing her hands to his bowed forehead. Both of them were weeping.

Loki lifted his head, staring at Sigyn until she met his eyes. “I love you, I _chose_ you,” he said fiercely. “I chose the life where I might have you because, having known you, even if only through the _kenning_ , I could not bear to be nothing to you.”

She stared at him intently, tears slipping down her cheeks unnoticed. “Are you sorry?”

He hesitated before he answered, picking his words with care: “I regret that you did not have the chance to choose. I…” he paused, swallowed hard, then continued in a whisper, “I have feared, these past years, what your reaction would be when you _kenned_ your other life, but, at the same time, I was relieved that it was not entirely lost to you. I am grieved that you are hurt, but glad that you know.”

“Would you have told me of your actions, had your price not been my _kenning?_ ”

“I…I do not know,” Loki replied.

Sigyn nodded, as if that was what she had expected. “You will make this up to me," she told him plainly, "You will come to Earth with me, and support me in my choices there. I cannot have that other life, I would not take it, now, having known you. Still, I might recover some of what was lost, and you will help me.” Loki’s eyes filled with hope and then, relief as she smiled and said, softly, “I forgive you.”

He was up from the floor in a flash, pulling her to him so that she was sitting sideways across his lap while they held each other tightly. “Sigyn,” he said, and again, “ _Sigyn_.” He drew her mouth to his for a desperate press of lips, and –

Frigga stepped away from the pool, into Odin’s arms.

“He will be happy,” he observed, tone indifferent, but she knew better by her long years with him and the way his fingers grasped her tightly. He was asking, but kings rarely phrased their queries as such, for kings must seem to know all.

She nodded, dashing tears from her eyes, “ _They_ will be happy, and loved. That is what matters.”

“And you?”

“My happiness is in our sons.”

“Let us hope Thor has an easier courtship,” Odin muttered.

Frigga laughed, clear and bright, “Oh, my king, let me tell you a tale of a woman and her stars…”

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, Frigga sees bits of the future (ie: the MCU timeline - not really what a mother wants for her son), but she also sees that, if Loki makes certain choices and somebody tweaks a few things before Darcy is born, then Darcy will be born as _his_ soulmate, instead of someone else's. They essentially COMPLETELY ALTER Darcy's fate, but the price Loki has to pay is that _she'll know exactly what he took from her_. I left that part deliberately vague, except for the bits about her family.
> 
> Oh, and I know that Sigyn was pretty hard on Frigga, but it seemed to me that her thinking would be thus: you sort of _expect_ Loki to be self-serving, it's in his nature. Sigyn had it brutally brought home to her that Frigga thinks of her as essentially adjunct to Loki. That part is largely subjective, but she's hurt and mad and she essentially just found out that she's like one of those second or third-born kids that parents of children with awful illnesses deliberately have hoping that the second or third will have matching (donatable) parts for their older sibling.
> 
> If that makes sense.
> 
> *sigh* Swear to Thor, every time I try and write something in Asgard it comes out some twisted fairytale thing.


End file.
